Chapter Six
No response came from Jess. Slim looked to Jonesy for some indication of guidance. The older man shrugged and made a gesture for Slim to go on.
"Guys in my unit used to joke around with me because my last name's Sherman. Always joshing with me that I must'a got my bars just because I was the general's son. They were only funnin' with me, of course. They really knew I wasn't related to General Sherman."
Jess remained in the same position, wishing Slim would quit dragging things out. Why's he puttin' me through this?
"And there was another guy in our unit who got the same treatment because his last name was Grant. He wasn't related to Ulysses either." Slim glanced around at each of the others. Only Andy and Jonesy met his gaze. Jess remained as he was, his head in his hands.
Why in blue blazes does he think he needs to tell me this? Jess knew Slim kept on talking after this pointless mention of a fellow soldier, but he blocked out the following words. Gritting his teeth, he waited impatiently for this storytelling to end. He wanted to escape to the bunkroom. Even though it could be days before the weather let up enough so he could ride out, he felt a need to get started on packing up his few belongings. While Slim explained whatever it was he was telling about, Jess sank further into his own thoughts.
For the past decade─except during the war─no matter where I been, whenever some trouble from m' past showed up and wrecked things for me, what'd I do? I left. Even here at the ranch, I've took off a few times. Like with Roany Bishop, Gil Brady, Laurel DeWalt. But every time, I came back. But this… there ain't never been nothin' that hurt this way. Knowing Slim shot me. There ain't no comin' back from this. Time to go. Again.
Slim continued, "But what was really strange is that Grant and I also got kidded a lot about something else. The guys always joked that we must be long-lost brothers or cousins."
He watched Jess, but there was still no reaction. He wished he knew what Jess was thinking, whether his friend was taking in all of this. Or any of it.
But very little of what was actually happening in the room was registering with Jess. A wave of regret was washing over him, culminating in resignation at the way things turned out.
Sure been mighty nice livin' here, feelin' like there was a place in this world for me. Wish I coulda tried a little longer to find out if it woulda worked. If I'd ever git them stakes drove down deep. But now, I gotta move on.
Suddenly a thought struck him, one that had never occurred to him before, during his years of wandering the Big Open.
Do I really have to go on the drift again? Or… Is it time to put an end to that kinda life? Jonesy said it was time to stop hidin'. Is it also time to stop leavin'?
"You see," Slim was expounding, "they kidded us because we looked so much alike. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Both of us bein' so tall."
Jess's thoughts were churning like an eddy swirling him in a rapids. From the time I was fifteen, I ain't never had what I have now. A place, a home. And yep, a family. Do I really have to give it all up? Even with what happened between Slim and me during the war, even with the wedge that's just been slammed between us like a sledgehammer pounded it there, could I do like Andy said—get past this? And… could Slim? Or is that dadgum war gonna keep on hauntin' us both now? I sure wish we could still give it a shot.
"Are ya listening to me, Jess?"
But that don't just depend on me. It depends on whether Slim would let me stay. And I wouldn't bet so much as a half a day's pay on that. Seein' me around here, dozens of times a day he'd be reminded about the war and about shootin' me. He ain't gonna want that. Not anymore than I wanna keep bein' reminded that this guy I thought was my best friend is the one who tried to kill me and come dadgum close to succeedin' too. No, it's over. Best I just ride out and spare Slim from havin' to tell me to git.
"Have you heard a single word I've said?"
Jess could hardly stand the deep-down hurt grabbing hold of his heart. You were wrong, Jonesy. The minute the full truth come to light, I already lost. Lost all of ya.
Not sure his pard was attentive at all, Slim ordered kindly, "Jess, look at me."
Slim's slightly increased volume finally broke into the Texan's thoughts, but he still didn't budge.
Slowly and firmly, but no louder, the blond rancher repeated, "I said, look at me."
Sighing, Jess raised his head and directed his eyes morosely to Slim. The hopelessness, the loss, Slim witnessed in those eyes was hard to view.
"Pay attention to what I'm telling ya," Slim said intently, as his light blue eyes bored into his friend's dark blues. "I know you've got that image in your mind of the Union officer who shot ya. But Jess… Grant looked a lot like me. …And he was a second lieutenant too."
Slim waited for that to sink in. Seeing the pain still held in the cobalt depths, he added softly, "Pard, the officer who shot you was Grant."
Jess blinked. His lips parted in surprise as he felt a combination of doubt and hope. Had he heard Slim right?
"I was nearby. I saw it happen. I saw you fall from the saddle," Slim explained. "Grant moved his troops out and left you there. Lieutenant Elam took his troops around ya too. But I couldn't do that. Even though you were a Confederate, and even though it looked like you were so far gone there was nothing that could help ya, I couldn't leave ya there to die. I just couldn't."
Slim sat expectantly, waiting for Jess to grasp the full measure of what he'd just been told. The Texan eyed him carefully, sizing him up. Was Slim inventing some story to smooth things over? Jess knew the man was as honest as the day is long, but he was also very compassionate. Would Slim compromise his honorable principles in order to shield a partner? To maintain the friendship? To protect Andy from another loss?
Jess's eyebrows drew together, hiking up at the bridge of his nose as he pondered what he'd just heard. His eyes remained locked with Slim's. "Grant shot me?" he restated, both to assure himself he'd heard his pard right and to question Slim's earnestness.
"He did." Slim nodded decisively. "I don't lie, Jess. You know that."
Yes, he did know that.
"Grant's the one who shot me," Jess murmured slowly. He drew himself up from leaning on his knees to sit totally upright, focusing a piercing look at Slim. "And you're the one who saved me."
A slight smile formed on Slim's lips. Ever so slowly, the tension drained from Jess's shoulders and face as he considered the series of almost miraculous incidents that had brought him and Slim full circle, from unknown enemies to best friends. And when Slim's mouth opened in a wider smile, Jess's suddenly broke into an enormous grin. Jonesy's and Andy's faces transformed too, lighting up like the two pards', as bright as the Christmas candles glowing on the windowsills.
His eyes gleaming, Jess stood up and thrust out his hand. Slim stood and grabbed hold, and after a quick handshake, he pulled Jess into a backslapping bear hug as their grins turned to full-blown laughter. All four of them ended up hooting and hollering and patting each other on the back.
"Whew!" Jonesy exaggerated the comment with a hand across his forehead and a twinkle in his eye. "Well, Jess, now you can let go of that worry you been totin' ever since you got here."
"You bet!" Jess chuckled.
Slim's smile waned, and a look of sympathy replaced it. "Jess, I hate to think that all this time you've been worried about this, thinking I mighta been the one who shot ya."
"It don't matter now." Jess beamed. "I tell ya, pard, this news is the best Christmas present I ever got!" Then he glanced at Andy. "Along with the peppermint sticks." He picked up the small box of candy and pressed it again to his heart.
Slim, Jonesy and Andy once again took their seats and began to talk excitedly about the discovery of this great piece of personal history, the current holiday, and their gifts. Jess joined them, but sat quietly, watching the others, listening, thinking. A feeling of extreme relief and happiness filled him to the brim. That wedge between him and Slim was gone. There would be no haunting images of that wartime rifle. Nothing to drive him away. He still belonged here!
Eyeing the others as they continued their joyful chatter, Jess smiled. Then he calmly stood up and turned away, striding into the kitchen with a definite purpose in mind.
